The soft glow of a computer monitor illuminated the space within a small room of a slightly dilapidated apartment complex. A hunched silhouette loomed over said monitor. 

It was a black haired young man of average stature and looks. His right hand hovered over the computer mouse, faintly trembling. A resigned sigh escaped his taught lips, followed by a crisp click. 

The young man then leaned back on the old chair he was sitting on and stared up at the ceiling marred by old water stains in the corners due to rain water leaking through. His landlord assured him that the roof's already patched up, but he wasn't really all that convinced. The landlord was a hardcore miser after all.

"Ah... I've really gone and done it, huh? That's farewell to my misspent youth, I guess."

His lips formed into a wry smile. He re-adjusted his glasses, got up, and went in front of a display cabinet lined up with various colorful figures. To be exact, they were Mobile Suit Gundam plastic model kits, or Gunpla for short.

There were quite a few High Grade and Master Grade kits in his meager collection. There were also some Real Grade kits, and a single Perfect Grade Astray Red Frame Kai.

The young man sighed once more and put his hand over the glass cover of the cabinet housing his once prized Gunpla. His expression carried hints of nostalgia and reluctance. 

His gaze was then drawn towards a figure sitting in the far right corner of the display cabinet. The sight of it made the young man groan miserably.

The figure was quite different from all the other model kits lined up on the shelves. It was actually in the form of a busty, blue haired, mature beauty donning a predominantly white colored military uniform resembling those worn by naval officers. Her back and legs, from the knee down, were equiped with futuristic armor sporting several rocket boosters, a pair of wings and a couple gun emplacements.

"She" sat with both black stocking covered legs provocatively spread open as they peaked out from the body hugging pencil skirt "she" was wearing; in a pose which could easily create misunderstandings if one did not know the context and the shape of the fictional space battle ship the figure was based on.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Loheng-rinko. You were the result of a sudden, uncontrollable impulse. Alas, we were not meant to be together for long. I hope you find another who would treasure you more than I ever would," the young man muttered dismally.

To be honest, the sight of a young man talking longingly to a toy in a dimly lit room was more than slightly freaky. But unfortunately, said young man is the protagonist of this tale. So deal with it.

Anyway, this young man is named Michael Cruz. He's a twenty four year old bachelor working as a call center agent. Due to the nature of his job, he's accumulated quite a bit of stress, and his ways of coping were apparently purchasing anime figures and building Gunpla.

He's been enamored with them ever since he'd received a cheap Gunpla knock-off as a birthday present back when he was in elementary school and first enlightened to the terms "anime" and "mecha". Due to his family's financial situation at the time, he could only marvel at the pictures of various model kits while browsing the internet during his youth. 

Possibly due to being repressed by the circumstances back then, he went totally nuts after graduating and finding a decent earning job, and blew almost his entire first paycheck purchasing Gunpla and anime figures. He'd never looked back since. Until now, that is.

He still gets goosebumps every time he recalls the undescribable expression on his mother's face the moment she saw his collection, when she came over from the province in an unannounced visit. Needless to say, he was mercilessly grilled afterwards.

Surprisingly however, his mother never actually pressed him to abandon his hobby after discovering it, saying he was already an adult and could make his own decisions (though things could have been different if she managed to find his collection of ecchi bishoujo figures hidden in a secret DIY compartment). She only reminded him to plan for his own future a bit more seriously from then on.

But the faint look of disappointment on his mother's face hit Michael harder than he expected, and caused him to seriously re-examine his life goals. That, coupled with the fact that he was the only male out of his parent's four children, and thus was the only one who could carry on the family name, wracked him with a heavy sense of guilt, which eventually led to the present circumstances.

He had finally decided to sell all his Gunpla and anime figures online today. Starting from now, he would be embarking on the path of becoming a "riajuu". It would be a difficult transition, but he was resolved to see it through to the end.

Yes! It was now time to stop wallowing in the past and start looking to a new future - one with the ultimate goal of passing down his genes.

This was quite the undertaking, especially for someone who, until recently, was the poster boy of a typical nerdy otaku. It was difficult, but certainly not impossible. He already had a role model in mind after all.

Right! His aim was to be like "Densha Otoko" and bag himself a pretty "Hermes" gal while riding the MRT. Moreover, he wanted to actually surpass "Densha", and made plans to shop for some trendy clothes and get a makeover at a salon before heading out to seek his destiny inside an extremely crowded, occasionally faulty MRT train car. It was his day off from work today, so he sought to get everything done in one go.

After shutting down his computer, checking his wallet to make sure he had his ATM card with him, and securely locking the door of his apartment room, he proceeded to go downstairs for the start of his new journey in life.

But alas, it was all not meant to be...

He had barely opened the rusty gate which led outside the compound housing the apartment building when a sudden unfortunate event took place.

The last thing he heard was the loud screeching of tires. And then, all faded to black...

***

The evening news included a report about a freak accident which occurred in a residential area within the Metro. A passing elf truck carrying cement sacks suddenly lost its breaks, went out of control and barreled through the gates of an old apartment complex. 

Only one casualty was reported. 

Michael Cruz. Twenty four years old. Single. 

His work colleagues described him as a quiet, gentle individual. His family greatly lamented his passing.

Such was the end of an unfortunate young man. 

But, in truth, it was only just the beginning...